


Airplanes & Cookies

by coshaymien



Series: Smosh Writing Week 2019 [1]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, One Shot, SmoshWritingWeek2019, SmoshWritingWeek2019 - Day 1, weslivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 20:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coshaymien/pseuds/coshaymien
Summary: The concept of soulmates always bothered Olivia, she just never cared to admit that.





	Airplanes & Cookies

Olivia Sui was sketching for her new project as a sudden cramp stung her whole left leg. It was weird, for sure, but weird things happening to her weren’t an odd occurrence in her life. She was positive that she was of the select few who had their soulmates mentally attached to them. If society wasn’t this calculating, emotionless and apathetic, she would have been shunned. But thankfully it didn’t happen, and she still was a young, promising architect. She didn’t give the damn thing too much thought usually, anyway. She didn’t care. Or at least she told herself not to care and focus on her career instead. It would frequently be just a stomach-ache as if having eaten too much candy. Maybe that’s why she herself was a bit weird and overly cautious about what she put in her body.

Yet again, it was weird. Nobody ever cramps like this. The pain starting from her ankle neared her hip, and nobody pulls multiple muscles at once like that… unless they did pull just one muscle.

Her hand stopped and let the pencil come crashing into the table, soaking in the Lima sun. The waitress came asking, as her poor Spanish skills let her understand, if she wanted anything else, as her coffee was sitting there, empty and untouched for nearly an hour. She nodded. _Sí, un más, for favor_ , she faked a smile.

They were tall. Sure, it wasn’t a big deal. Hell, the building she was sketching spoke volumes of her own Napoleon complex, not feeling confident in her small stature. But did she ever expect that, ever since the concept of soulmates was explained to her? She sure as hell did not. Unless her deductions were way, way off. She wasn’t disappointed, per se, but she just didn’t imagine herself having a tall partner, that’s all. Not that she would ever meet them anyway.

There were way too many sob stories, passed on by the elderly, now long gone, about how they never met or figured out whoever their soulmate was. The world was a big place after all, even for such a travel freak as Olivia. She needn’t have preoccupied herself with this.

The flight home was awful. Olivia hoped to have some sleep on the plane, as it was uncomfortable to work in airplanes, but for whatever reason they had to emergency land in Mexico City and catch another flight from there. Having not slept at all during the night, she was way too sleepy to understand why or really comprehend where she really was. Blindly following the fellow passengers and waiting in the lounge for a couple of hours, she finally boarded the plane. Sure, it could have been worse, it was quite fortunate that Los Angeles-Mexico City route had direct flights multiple times a day, she wouldn’t have liked to stay in a city where she had nothing planned for a day, or longer.

She got a seat in an emergency row where a fairly slim, tall young white man was already sitting in, next to a window. He had bleached off-white hair with some pastel lavender undertones and a wide, almost childlike smile. _Bold choice_ , she thought, _but he pulls it off fairly well_. She herself got an aisle seat, and she hoped that whoever was sitting between them would show up sooner rather than later.

“Are you one of those unfortunate folks coming from Lima?” the man asked as she sat in, having put her luggage.

“Um, yeah,” she nodded sheepishly. She tried to smile, but she was feeling exhausted.

“I’m Wes, by the way. Well, actually Wesley, but no one but my mom calls me that,” he giggled, introducing himself.

“I’m Olivia, nice to meet you, Wes,” she smiled, wiggling in her seat slightly, to find a more comfortable spot. “I don’t mean to be rude, but if nobody sits in between, can I try to lay down? I’m afraid I was half-asleep when we started to land, and I didn’t get much sleep last night."

“Sure thing,” he nodded understandably. Or was it a pity? She couldn’t tell at this point.

Nobody showed up at the middle seat and soon after the flight attendants started their procedures and they began to take off. Once it was allowed, they lifted the armrests between them, Wes had his legs sprawl out a little diagonally and Olivia laid down, head on his lap - he insisted and Olivia just didn’t have the energy to argue. She usually wouldn’t give in, but for whatever reason she felt like she could trust him, and she learned to trust her gut over the years.

“Oh shit, did I drool on you?” she asked, defensively but still half-asleep, after feeling light nudging on her shoulder.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just that we’re landing, that’s all.”

“Oh, thanks,” she held her head, sitting up back in her seat. “I hope we’re actually landing in LAX already?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he wheezed a little, which she thought was cute.

“Thanks again,” she repeated herself, a little more like herself this time around.

“Honestly, don’t sweat it,” he assured.

She felt a little of her usual stomach-ache and glanced at the opened bag of candy. If she ignored that, she was actually pretty darn hungry.

“Want some?” he suggested, lifting up an eyebrow.

“Sure, why not,” she left out a quiet sigh and smiled.

They chatted for a while as the plane landed; Wes apparently was out in Mexico City for some kind of convention, the kind where the people dressed up as fictional characters. Olivia didn’t really keep up with the popular culture, but she appreciated the creativity. She felt somewhat embarrassed that she couldn’t add more to the conversation although Wes didn’t really seem to mind. He also apparently was about to move in the neighbourhood that she was living in, so she didn’t feel hesitant when they naturally exchanged numbers.

She was eager to get back home and sleep properly, and she was sure that Courtney was already growing impatient waiting to pick her up from the airport to the point she didn’t eve notice that Wes was limping behind her after he got out of his seat.

A week passes, and Olivia is pulling an all-nighter again. She sure caught up on her sleep and got back to her usual work-rhythm after the trip that felt more like a vacation than a business affair, but the deadline crept out quicker than she anticipated. There was a half-finished coffee, her third already, and barely touched acai bowl next to the bright screen as her fingers delicately traced the mouse to make sure the design was immaculate. She was growing tired, as 3 am approached but a doorbell woke her up again, making her sit up straight. She wasn’t sure if she should answer, but she decided to at least look through the peep hole.

She froze for a second. _Wes_? Should she be concerned? Was he a stalker? But her gut didn’t feel any danger, so she opened the door.

He was probably even more surprised to see her, chin lifted up more than usual.

“Wow, Olivia...” he didn’t finish his thought, saying it under his breath. She didn’t look like herself, in sweats, no makeup, dark bags under her eyes, but then again, she probably didn’t look any better the first time.

“Yeah, surprise,” she said, unenthusiastically, however, she smiled, genuinely.

“I swear I just moved in next door and- “

“Why don’t you come in?” she interrupted, and moved out of the door frame to let him in. She didn’t want to bother any of their other neighbors if that was the case.

“I just saw the light in your window, and you see, I’m in a kind of a pickle,” he continued, sitting on a stool in her kitchen area, as per Olivia’s gesture. “I wanted some cookies and I had none, but I don’t have any eggs either.”

“At three in the morning?”

“You’re still up, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m working. Sure, take my eggs but I expect some cookies next to me in half an hour,” she smiled. Warm, handmade cookies sure sounded nice right about now.

“I’ll just warn you that I’m not the best baker.”

“Let me be a judge of that.”

She had another stomach-ache that night.

It took them three years of marriage to realize what was up between them.


End file.
